


Bandages

by Aithilin



Category: Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicle
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2016-12-04
Packaged: 2018-09-06 13:59:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8755291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aithilin/pseuds/Aithilin
Summary: Not all the bandages were necessary, but they made Fai feel better.





	

“Don’t want to upset the locals now, do we, Kuro-sama?”

It wasn’t necessary. It was never really necessary. Not the way Fai made it. Not now that they were expecting a new arm to arrive any day (once that idiot Fuuma decided to stop mucking around in other worlds and do his job). 

But Fai liked to play doctor. 

He was quick with antiseptics and bandages— hands moving quickly to minimise pain and exposure when wounds were still open to the air. He was quick to wind the excess cloth around his own hand— spooling it so it came loose freely and easily as he wanted it to. Wrapped around his own hands like he was transferring a bit of healing magic between them. 

It was always the same excuse; “I don’t think this world has the same kind of prosthetic. And Kuro-chi is already so scary!”

“Shut up. It’s not even real.”

“How can Kuro-min say such a mean thing!” It was said with a smile, even as he pinched the fake skin together. Even as he wrapped a thin strip of cloth around a wound that could never bleed. As he hid the grey and black metal cords mimicking muscle from view. “It’s a part of him too!”

He could still smell the blood on the seam— the uneven trail of seemingly sentient cords that attached themselves to nerves and muscle settled just beneath the surface of Kurogane’s skin. He could still feel the heat and see the redness under his own hands as he tried to sooth the poorly fitted prosthetic. But it was the blood that worried him. 

Some days— some worlds— he would dip his head and lick the blood that escaped the seal and seam. Some days he would smirk up at Kurogane and assess the damage with a yellow eye so focused on the blood of his prey that his world had narrowed down to that one heartbeat. The heartbeat he could hear above all else sometimes; the heartbeat he could hear quicken despite Kurogane’s calm features. 

Today, he dabbed a cool cloth against the redness and kept glancing at the bed where Syaoran was still sleeping, Mokona latched on to his arm. Today, after the confusion and strangeness of the “underworld”, every part of Fai was just tired, relieved, glad to be back among the living and in the bright world they had found themselves in. He was glad to be back, with his family in sight (solid beneath his hands, warm and _living_ to his touch). 

“Oi, stop that.”

His cheek was still raw, red, the forming bruise sensitive as Kurogane touched it. The touch wasn’t gentle— wasn’t the soft touch of a concerned lover Fai had seen in the streets and in the multiple worlds. It wasn’t a gentle, light touch— Kurogane was practically incapable of those. It was rough and present and _solid_. And it stung. 

“Kuro-chu is so mean! That hurt!”

“No it didn’t, idiot. Now sit still so I can get you cleaned up.” 

Fai had insisted on taking care of everyone first. He had insisted on getting Syaoran to bed after he was cleaned up. He had pushed Kurogane down on their little patio, in the bright sun and the warm breeze, so he could pull together bandages and antiseptics in the light. So he could reassure himself that somewhere between the world of the dead and the house they had rented no one had been truly hurt. That the wounds caused in the strange world— the wounds that he had caused— were not so bad in the brighter light of the real world. 

“I’m not done, Kuro-chan.”

“Yes, you are.” Kurogane had already cleaned the worst of it— the gash on his arm, swiped the blood away with a damp cloth. He had already ripped the cloth away, forced Fai to take care of the bare minimum before he let himself be fussed over. “Let me take care of you, idiot.”


End file.
